Mother Knows Best
by alohomora.addy
Summary: Molly Weasley always had a way of knowing when something was off with her children. Only months after the Battle, Molly is trying to bring her children together, to heal their broken hearts. In the process, she finds out the one thing that could change the Weasley's for good. When your family is in tatters, who best can you look to for help other than your very own mother?


_A/N: This is the first in a series of stories. Thank you for taking the time to read it, as it is pretty lengthy. Please feel free to leave me some constructive criticism :) and have a great day! ~alohomora addy_

**Charlie**

"Is this your brother? The one who died?"

Charlie Weasley looked up from his journal at Tyler Stevens. Tyler had been one of his best friends and greatest inspiration at Hogwarts. Everyone knew which team Tyler was batting for—and had since 5th year, when he came out of the proverbial closet at the Yule Ball. Charlie admired his courage. And while he would have liked to come out at the same time, he was afraid of how his family and friends would react. Not that it would be necessarily bad. Nevertheless, Charlie had taken it upon himself to keep in touch with the first boy he had ever crushed on. The pair had met up a few weeks prior, and had been practically inseparable since.

Tyler was holing a picture frame—the only one Charlie kept in his study. Inside it, a smiling, freckled, red-haired kid with a devilish grin waved back. Most days, it was hard for Charlie to even glance at that picture. It brought back way too many memories. But he often forced himself look at it. He made himself remember Fred, to keep him alive—if only through memories.

"Yeah," Charlie replied, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "That's Fred."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Tyler set the picture back on the desk with a frown.

"No need to be sorry. Fred's death left a gaping hole in my family. Everyone misses him. It's hard not to. When we're all together, we feel it most. In fact, tonight is the first night we're gathering since a few days after Fred's funeral. I'm not sure how it will go. I'm kind of afraid, actually." He couldn't stop the tear from spilling down his cheek. It may have only been one, but Tyler didn't miss it.

Tyler moved to Charlie's side, patting him on the back. "I could go with you, mate, for moral support. If you don't think I would be intruding."

Charlie thought it over for a moment. On one hand, having Tyler there would be amazing. He would finally get to meet his mother. And he was sure she would make him feel welcome. But he wasn't sure if this was the best time to introduce his gay best friend to his hurting family. And he was definitely sure he wasn't ready to tell him _or _them that he thought he had feelings for said best friend. Did the good outweigh the bad in this situation? Charlie finally decided it did.

"Sure," he smiled at Tyler. "You can come. I'm sure I'll need some support at this thing. I'm not even positive if going is wise."

"But your family needs to heal. This dinner will begin that process. It will be a good thing, Charlie. Have a little faith." Tyler's dimpled smile was enough to put Charlie's mind at ease.

**George**

"Are you awake, Georgie?"

George Weasley wanted to pretend he wasn't, in fact, awake. He wanted to pretend he was still off in dreamland, where the Second Wizarding War never happened and he hadn't lost his best friend. But his girlfriend, Angelina Johnson, obviously already knew he was.

He was actually amazed he could finally call her his girlfriend. When they were younger, she dated his twin brother briefly. But George always harbored a secret crush on her, one that he was never able to act on. It seemed fate was smiling down on him the day she walked into his joke shop.

"I'm not sure yet," he whispered, his lips forming a smirk. "Give me a few seconds to figure out."

"Real funny, jerk," Angelina sighed. She crossed her arms, only feigning her anger, but George jumped up, no less.

"What's on your mind, Angel?" His shaggy red hair fell over his eyes, and he had to brush at it to see her clearly.

"Do you really think I'll be welcome at this dinner tonight? I mean, I _was_ his girlfriend once. Won't they hate me—think I moved on to you because you're the only twin available or something—" The words came out in a rush; George had to struggle to keep up.

With effort, swallowing around the lump in his throat, he tried to remember all of his planned words. He thought she might be feeling this way and had prepared a whole speech to calm her fears. "Whoa, slow down there. They'll love you, Angel. Trust me. They'll see how happy you make me. My family isn't a bunch of goons, you know. Well, Percy may be. But Mum dropped him on his head once or twice, so it can't really be helped." He brushed strands of her jet black hair from her face. "And if they have anything bad to say—anything at all—, we can leave."

She smiled at him, and ducked in to kiss him lightly.

George pulled Angelina close to him. He was glad to have her. She made the pain of losing Fred bearable, at the very least. "Or maybe we should skip the dinner altogether," he murmured, showering her with kisses.

Squealing, Angelina squirmed her way out of his embrace. "Oh no, mister, you're not making them blame me for you missing this dinner. We're going. End of story."

One look at Angelina's 'I-mean-business' face, and George knew her decision was final. Not that he minded. In the weeks since running into her, he had already decided he would do anything for her.

**Ginny**

"Honey, we're going to be late. Are you almost ready?"

Ginny Weasley almost didn't hear her boyfriend, Harry's voice floating up to her. She was in their bedroom, looking at old pictures of her family, wondering if the house she grew up in would still feel the same when she visited later that day. Her thumb grazed the moving image of the brother she lost months before.

Fred was probably her favorite brother. He was the one she was most like, the one she looked up to. And he was the one death from the Second Wizarding War that she had yet to shake—though, how does one shake the death of a loved one?

"I'll be right down," she called.

Ginny was glad to have Harry around for the past few months. He had helped a lot on the days she barely felt like getting out of bed. And he was always patient with her. She felt blessed. Before the War, she hadn't seen him much—she now knew it was because he was finding horcruxes—but she knew he would return to her one day. And now, when she needed him most, he was never too far away. It only made her fall more in love. And boy had she fallen.

"Miss you, Freddy. Visit me in my dreams, big brother." She kissed the photograph version of her brother's head—causing the animated picture to recoil from "girl germs," and Ginny to laugh out loud. "I'll see you in dreamland."

Setting the picture back on her dresser, she grabbed her jacket and headed downstairs to meet Harry.

**Ron**

"Ron? Is that what you're wearing?"

Hermione Granger regarded her boyfriend, Ron, with mock disgust. She actually thought he looked dashing in his blue button-down and slacks. But she wanted to try to joke with him, if only to cheer him up. He had been feeling really low lately, probably remembering Fred, or something.

"What's wrong with this?" Ron gazed down at his outfit, attempting to figure out what she was trying to say. He thought he looked fine—maybe a little bit too dressed up for a family dinner.

"Nothing, if you're going for that 'Just-got-off-work' look." She had to turn away to hide her smile.

"And what if I am?" he snapped. "I'm a grown man, Mione. I don't need you to critique my clothing choices."

"Well the next time I have half a mind to make an effort to joke around with you—" her voice rose as she spoke, "TO CHEER YOUR SORRY BEHIND UP, I WON'T." She stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

This confused poor Ron. "You were joking?" he called after her, making a move to follow. "Mione, I'm sorry."

Hermione had heard those words often in the years that she'd known him. They were pretty much his catchphrase, at least when it came to her. And she always forgave him. One look in his beautiful eyes, and her heart melted once again. She could never stay mad at Ron.

A knock came at the bathroom door. Hermione opened it to see the love of her life, see the apology shining in his eyes. She couldn't help herself. One minute she was standing there, pissed off at him once again, and the next she was in his arms, kissing his full lips. He had that effect on her.

When the kiss finally broke, they were both panting. "We should probably get going soon. Mum might think we've eloped or something." She giggled against his chest.

Ron wrapped his arms around her. She knew this was his serious pose, that he had something he wanted to talk about. "Do you think it will feel different, you know, without him there?"

Hermione had thought a lot about that. She was sure it would feel like a hole in the universe, because it already had. But she was also sure that Molly would do all she could to divert the attention, to take away her children's pain. She knew it would be good for the family to gather. They needed to be close at a time like this, something they hadn't been since the first nights after the war.

"I think it will feel different, but different doesn't always have to be bad. Mum will make sure of that." She hugged him tightly. "It will be okay, honey. I'll be there for you the whole time."

"I love you, Hermione Granger."

"I love you to, Ronald Weasley—but only sometimes." This time she wasn't able to hide her smirk for long. He knew she was joking anyways.

**Bill**

"Are you sure you're well enough to go today?" Bill's voice was thick with worry. He had never known his wife—or anyone, for that matter—to be this sick one minute, and absolutely glowing at the next. It made no sense at all!

"I am fine. It's only a bout of queasiness. It will pass by the time dinner is served." Fleur tried to ease her husband's worry. And if that meant not revealing that she had been sick nearly every day for the past week and a half, well then so be it! She wasn't about to be the reason they missed this dinner and earned their selves a place on Mama Weasley's bad side. Especially over an upset stomach—one that she had already made an appointment to visit a Healer about for the next day—that usually only lasted an hour or two. Nope. They were going.

Fleur was actually excited to see her brothers- and sister-in-law. She had missed them over the past months. But she understood that it was hard for them to get together without Fred.

Bill looked a little leery of letting her go. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated, like she had to go or he wouldn't think as highly of her, or something. "Are you positive? No one would think less of you if you had to stay home because of an illness." He wrapped his arms around her. "I wouldn't, at least."

"I'm positive," she replied with a nod. She loved how she could feel so very safe inside Bill's arms—as if the world was not such a big, unknown, scary place anymore.

"Okay then. Shall we apparate, or use Floo?" Bill thought Floo would be a better choice, but he left the decision up to her.

Fleur considered it. Whatever was wrong with her body, she thought apparating would most likely worsen the problem. "Floo," she replied, choosing the safer choice.

"Floo, it is, then."

**Percy**

"Are you sure this dinner tonight is the best place to introduce me?"

Audrey was more than nervous meeting her boyfriend, Percy's family for the first time. From what she had heard, she knew this dinner would be a big deal—the first since Percy's brother's death. She just didn't want to impose on them.

"Don't be silly, love. Mum told me to invite you. She has wanted to meet you for a while now, ever since I first mentioned you." Percy smiled at his beautiful girlfriend.

He wondered how he had gotten so lucky as to find such a beautiful girl as Audrey. He had met her at the Ministry of Magic only a few weeks before, but she had made his life better in that short time. It was early, but he was actually seriously considering proposing to her in the coming months.

Audrey sighed. She loved how Percy could always calm her fears and nerves. She really believed he was her soul mate. Every day, she fell more in love.

"Shall we be going then?" Percy asked, holding out his hand. When she placed hers in his, he turned on the spot, disapparating.

**Molly**

Today was the day! Molly Weasley was busy as could be, preparing all of her children's favorite foods. She was so very happy that they had finally agreed to gather for a dinner. It was bound to happen, though. She had been asking for months—bugging them, is more like it. And she could be very persuasive when she wanted to be.

As she busied herself, Molly let her mind drift to her fallen son. She missed Fred so much that, on some days, it was hard to breathe, hard to even go about her daily tasks. But she was sure it would have been the same if any of her other children had died instead of him. Fred was special, yes, but it was hard for a mother to get past the death of a child.

"Oh, Fred, we all miss you dearly."

Molly struggled against the tears forming at the back of her eyes. She knew she had to be strong for her children. She was sure this dinner would be hard for all of them, but she was more worried about George than anyone. The twins were inseparable before Fred's death. In the months since, George secluded himself from his family. Her main goals for the night were to bring him out of his funk and to unite her broken family.

"Need any help, Mum?"

She was so deep in thought, that the voice of her son startled her. When she recovered, she turned to face the only boy of hers that was exactly the same height as her. His curly, red hair—a sort of signature for their family—was neatly combed, and his clothes were pressed and crisp-looking. Percy always did believe in punctuality and in being dressed to impress.

"Percy!" she exclaimed. A smile lit her rosy cheeks as she gathered him in a hug—the type of hug a Mama Bear would give her cub. "Come here, and let me get a look at you! Are you well?"

**Percy**

Percy returned his mother's smile and hug. He never forgot his time spent away from her—off doing that daft old man Fudge's bidding, and believing he didn't belong with his own family. Boy was he pleasantly surprised when they accepted him back into the fold after Fudge's demise.

"Yes, Mum. I am fine. In fact, I'm more than fine."

Molly could tell that something was up, just by the tone in her son's voice. She noticed he had pep in his step—something she was happy he had finally found. Figuring it had something to do with that new girlfriend of his, she decided to ask about her.

"So, what is this Audrey like?" She already knew most of the answer. Percy liked to send her elaborate letters explaining about her. She was actually surprised he had not yet written to inform her of their engagement. Though, maybe they hadn't progressed that far yet. But Molly had a feeling it was heading in that direction.

"Mum, there literally are no words that can describe her in the way she should be. But I'll let you in on a little secret. I think I may be falling in love." Percy's cheeks flushed at the word, but the smile in his eyes told the truth—he really felt like he loved her. Molly knew she had to meet this girl.

"She sounds lovely, dear. Did you bring her along?" She wiped her hands on her apron.

"Yes, she's in the den. Follow me."

Percy led her out of the kitchen, and into the den. Seated on the worn sofa facing the door was a raven-haired beauty with deep dimples and pearly white teeth that stood when they entered the room.

"Mum, this is Audrey Turner. She's who I've been writing to you about."

Percy noticed Audrey's nervousness returning and crossed the room to take her hand. "No need to be nervous, lovely," he whispered in her ear. "She loves you already, I can tell."

Molly took notice that Percy's face brightened the second he came in contact with Audrey. She seemed to have a magical effect on him—and that was saying something, considering they were all magical.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," Audrey spoke, her lips turning up to form a smile. "Percy, here, has told me a lot about you. I do believe you are his favorite family member. You're all he talks about, at least." She ended with a nervous glance at Percy.

Molly tried to place her accent. It sounded sort of Irish with a hint of Italian. "It's nice to meet you, Audrey," Molly replied with a smile. "But if you're going to be a part of this family—and I sincerely hope that you are—, please, call me Mum. Or, at the very least, Molly." Her smile was genuine.

"Alright, Mrs. Weasley, erm, Molly." Audrey returned her smile, enhancing her beauty.

"I must get back to preparing dinner. Would you like to help me in the kitchen, dear?"

"I would," Audrey answered. She was glad that Percy's Mum had accepted her so easily, and was even asking her for help in the kitchen. It was sort of a dream come true for the young woman.

**Charlie**

Charlie and Tyler apparated right outside of the home he had grown up in. The atmosphere was enough to knock him off balance, and he stumbled over a tree root. Tyler's arm flew out to steady him.

"You okay?" he questioned, worry clear on his face.

"Thanks, I'm fine. I believe that root is out to get me. I trip over at least once, every time I am home." He cracked a miniscule smile at the absurdity of his statement.

"Bad root," Tyler replied with a grin, turning around to wave his finger at the ground. "No tripping Charlie anymore, you hear me?"

Charlie's smile widened. He loved how Tyler was able to take his mind off nearly anything.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Shall we, then?" He led his friend up the walk and into his childhood home.

Everything looked the same, which surprised him. He was sure there would be some significant sign that Fred wasn't there and would never be again. But when he looked at the wall where his mother measured her children's growth, or the place where he tripped going down the steps and hit his head on a random sharp corner, causing blood to cascade from the wound, nothing looked different. In fact, if he squinted hard enough, he could still see the discoloration of the floor, where his blood had been—but that could have just been his imagination.

"Anybody home?" Charlie called. One sniff of the air told him where he could find someone—the kitchen. He led Tyler in that direction.

Charlie and Tyler entered the kitchen to see Molly deep in discussion with a pretty girl. Charlie didn't know who she was, but figured she was with one of his brothers. But which one? He knew Bill and Ron were both unavailable—Bill was married, and Ron seemed pretty serious about Hermione. Some days, he briefly wished he could have found that with a girl, as well. But then he would remember girls weren't exactly for him—he had no attraction towards them whatsoever—and he would go on about his life. He wasn't sure that this girl was George's type. That only left Percy. And while he loved his brother, he wasn't sure if Perce could get a girl such as this one. She was beautiful, at least looked pretty smart, and way out of his league. But stranger things had happened.

"Hello Mum," Charlie spoke when the two women had a lull in their conversation. When she looked up at him, he couldn't hold back his smile.

"Charlie! When did you get in? Ah, no matter! Come here! I see you still haven't cut that hair of yours."

Charlie flushed. He had a feeling she would bring up the length of his hair—she always did. But it was one of the many reasons he loved her.

"Not yet, Mum," he replied with a small chuckle. He crossed the distance between them and gathered her in a hug. She was a good foot shorter than he was, and her hair tickled his nose. "I missed you," he murmured, more to himself, but she heard it, no less.

"I missed you too, Charlie. Next time, don't stay away too long. I know you're busy in Romania, but we miss you here too." Molly pulled back from the hug. She looked over her son's shoulder to see a boy behind him. "Hello dear. I'm Molly. And you are?"

Charlie cleared his throat. "Um… Mum, this is my….erm friend, Tyler Stevens. I hope its okay that I told him he could come along."

Molly studied the boy curiously. She had always wondered about Charlie—why he had never brought home a girlfriend, or even wrote home about one. She just figured it was because he hadn't found the right one yet. But now she knew the truth; Charlie hadn't brought home or wrote about a girl because it seemed he wasn't interested in girls. This was completely fine with her. Because she just wanted her children to find happiness. And if that meant Charlie falling in love with another boy, well then who was she to try to put a stop to his happiness?

Tyler's face fell slightly when Charlie introduced him as his friend. Sure, they hadn't exactly made it past the friend stage yet—not for lack of trying on Tyler's part—, but he wished, one day, he'd be introduced as the boyfriend. Maybe this dinner would push their relationship in that direction.

"It's nice to meet you, Tyler. And it's no problem at all. Why don't you two boys go get yourselves comfortable? Percy is in the den. I'm sure he'd like to see you, Charlie." Molly smiled as she politely shooed them from her workspace.

Audrey wasn't sure what she had just witnessed. Percy had not really mentioned Charlie, only that he worked with dragons in Romania. Maybe his friend Tyler was only that—a friend. But with the way Tyler's face fell when he was introduced as a friend, Audrey could tell he wished his title was more. She wondered if Percy knew—or Charlie, for that matter.

**Bill**

Bill arrived first, stumbling out of the fireplace. Fleur, who was much more graceful, landed firmly on her feet. But she still looked a tad green from the traveling.

"If you want to go home, just say the word," Bill murmured in his wife's ear. He wasn't sure if she was contagious, or if she should even be out of the house.

"I'm fine," she tried to reassure him. But the tremble in her voice gave clue that she wasn't fine. She was actually feeling another trip to the restroom coming on. But first, she wanted to say hello to Molly. "Let's go find Mum and see if anyone else has arrived." She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the fireplace.

In the few years since her marriage to Bill, Fleur figured out the place she was most likely to find her mother-in-law. Sure enough, when she rounded the corner, she could see a fiery mane whipping past the doorway, just inside the kitchen. Molly was busy preparing their dinner. She pulled Bill along.

Molly looked up before they even made it completely in the doorway. "Bill! Fleur! Come in! Come in!" Once she let go of the spoon she was holding, it continued to stir of its own accord. She walked towards them, a smile already forming on her face. "Bill, you look well. How is married life treating you both?"

Bill hugged his mother. "Married life couldn't be better, Mum. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine."

Bill groaned. "I swear, the next person who says they are fine will get to meet the spell end of my wand." He froze, remembering who he was talking to. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mum! I didn't mean it towards you." Chagrin clouded his features.

"Excuse me!" Fleur nearly shouted the words as she rushed out of the room in search of the bathroom. She barely made it in time, before emptying her stomach completely. It was then that she knew something was seriously wrong. She wondered if she should discuss it with Molly, or just wait until the next day. When she finished—after she brushed her teeth—, she actually felt loads better. That usually signified the end of her bout of sickness. But she decided to take it easy on her food intake.

Back in the kitchen, everyone barely knew what happened. One minute, Fleur was standing there, admittedly looking green, and the next she was excusing herself and running off. Was she okay?

"Oh, dear," cried Molly. "Is she okay?"

"She's been feeling ill for the past hour or so. I told her we shouldn't have come home. But she was adamant. Do you know what could be wrong? I'm worried, Mum." The worry in his voice caused him to choke up slightly at the end.

Fleur walked back into the room as Bill finished his thought. Already she was looking better—if not 100%, then 90%. Molly wondered what could have brought on such a sudden sickness, only to leave just as quickly. The diagnosis was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite reach it…yet.

"Are you feeling better, dear?" Molly moved closer to the woman she could now call her daughter. "You certainly look better."

"I feel amazing, Mum. Really. These little bouts I get never last more than an hour or two."

"You've had this happen before?" Bill looked at his wife in concern. "Why haven't you told me?"

Fleur didn't like the scrutiny and judgment she was receiving, both from her husband and her mother-in-law. The reason she hadn't told him was because she didn't want him to worry. And she definitely didn't want to worry Molly, who already had so very much on her plate as it was. She told them both that. "I have an appointment at St. Mungo's tomorrow morning. I have this handled, Bill."

Bill still wished she would have come to him, but he now understood, at least a little bit, why she didn't. It made him love her more, if that were possible.

Molly's attention moved between the two of them. Whenever she studied Fleur's face, she could tell something was off. But she still had yet to place it.

Audrey kept quiet, working on the dinner preparation tasks Molly had assigned to her. But she had a feeling this wasn't the end of the discussion on the matter.

**Ginny**

Whatever it was, it was put on a back burner of Molly's mind when her daughter, Ginny, and her almost-son, Harry, sauntered into the room, holding hands. Harry was smiling at his girlfriend, seemingly amazed by her beauty. Ginny was not smiling. In fact, it looked as if she might be on the verge of tears. Which was something coming from her strong little girl—for she would always be Molly's little girl, her baby, her youngest child.

"Are you okay, dear?" Molly asked her, wrapping her arms around Ginny.

That was all it took to break the dam Ginny had built months before. Every single emotion she had tried to hold in since Fred's death spilled right out in a matter of seconds. She crumpled against her mother, sobbing at the loss of such a brilliant life.

Molly simply held her, while Bill, Fleur, Harry and Audrey looked on, their eyes admittedly getting wet at the sight.

When Ginny had cried as much as she possibly could, she stepped out of her mother's embrace. Molly produced a tissue which Ginny took, grateful. She wiped at her eyes, while her mother greeted her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, Mum." Ginny croaked.

"What do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart? Crying is a perfectly natural response. It's actually good for you. Harry, dear, would you come here, please?" She led him away from Ginny, wanting to speak to him more privately.

When they were out of earshot of everyone except Audrey, for she was secluded in the corner farthest away from the doorway, she spoke. "Thank you for coming, and for taking care of Ginny. I expect it's been pretty hard on her?" Harry nodded. "I wish she wouldn't hold it all in like she does." Molly glanced at the only one of her daughters she gave birth to.

"I'll always be there for her, Mrs. Weasley. I love her. It's the least I can do."

In that moment, Molly believed every bit of what Harry was saying to her. She knew he would never leave her side for the rest of his life. And that knowledge couldn't have made her happier. She pulled him into a hug, grateful for knowing her daughter could draw on some of his strength.

"Are you both done talking about me over there?" Ginny's voice was hoarse from the sobbing she had done only a few minutes before.

Harry returned to her side, pulling her into his arms. She folded herself into him, breathing in his scent. It was something she had gotten used to, living with him for the past couple months. And something that made her feel safe.

Harry kissed the top of her head, causing her lips to turn up slightly. "I love you," she whispered only for his ears.

"I love you, too."

Ginny cleared her throat. "Mum, do you need any help?"

Molly was surprised to hear those words from her daughter. Ginny was not one to want to help in the kitchen. But she must have wanted to keep her mind off her brother. So she was dispatched to peeling and slicing potatoes.

Ginny was grateful for the distraction. She took her place next to the raven-haired girl already cutting up carrots. "Which of my brothers are you here with," she asked, trying not to sound rude. She was genuinely curious.

Audrey froze mid-slice. "P-Percy," she sputtered, silently cursing her nervousness. She was a beautiful girl, why did she have to be so darn shy?

"Wow! Percy, huh? Well good for you both! He deserves some happiness." The tremble had left her voice. It seemed she was getting used to emptiness she originally felt.

**George**

George and Angelina apparated directly on the edge of the bottom stoop leading into the Weasley home. Naturally, they lost their balance, and fell in a heap on the ground. Angelina began to giggle, made worse by George's probing, tickling fingers. She begged him to stop, but that seemed to only egg him on.

Inside the house, Molly heard the unmistakable crack of an apparition. It was near the time for her husband to be getting home, so she wandered over to her family clock—the one that told her where each of her family members were. Arthur's hand was still positioned at work. Ron's hand was at traveling. What surprised her was that both Fred and George's hands were pointed at home. Fred's hand moved from time to time, but it had never been in the same place as George—at least not that she had noticed. But now, she wondered if her lost son had gotten word of the dinner somehow—which was surely madness since he was dead—and decided to show up from the other side. It would be just like him, too.

Shaking her head, Molly went out to greet her son.

George and Angelina had yet to move from their positions. He trailed his lips along her jaw, blowing in her ear, making her quake. If her skin tone was any lighter, her blush would have been very visible.

Molly opened the door, looking for George. She took one step out, and her foot kicked something. She looked down to see one half of her twins, buried under a tangle of arms and legs, his lips on a girl who looked mildly familiar. She cleared her throat, wondering if she would have to pull out her wand and hose them off.

She didn't need to. They both scrambled to their feet.

"Sorry, Mum," George murmured, struggling not to laugh. "We had a bad landing."

Try as she might, Molly couldn't find it in her heart to be mad at him over the incident. Not when he looked so happy. She assumed it had something to do with the woman behind him, but she wasn't quite sure.

George saw she was looking at Angelina. "Mum, this is my girlfriend, Angelina Johnson. Angel, this is my Mum."

The two women smiled at each other. Molly now knew why the girl looked so familiar. She had been in school with George and Fred. In fact, if memory served her correctly, hadn't Fred and Angelina dated for a short while? She thought they did, but now wasn't quite so sure. Nevertheless, she greeted the woman, accepting her almost immediately. How else would one regard the person who made her once-depressed son so obviously happy?

"It's nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Weasley." Angelina smiled brightly, her tanned skin seeming to shimmer.

"Molly, dear, or Mum. Never Mrs. Weasley. It makes me feel old." She chuckled lightly.

"Molly, then."

"Shall we go in?" George asked the pair. "Who else is here, Mum? I bet Percy, at the very least. That boy has never been late a day in his life."

Molly nodded, acknowledging the truth in her son's statement. Percy was not one for lateness. "Everyone except Ron and Hermione, and your father. Percy and his girlfriend were the first ones to arrive."

George stopped mid-step. "Stop the presses! Percy has a girlfriend?" His voice carried all the way into the den, where it met its response.

"What of it?" Percy called back, striding out of the den. "Surprised I was able to nab one before you?" His tone was serious, but his face showcased his joking demeanor.

George pulled Angelina close to him. "Already have one, Perce," he replied with a grin.

Of course, Percy remembered Angelina from Hogwarts. "Angelina? Is that you? What in the world are you doing with this lummox here?" He paused for emphasis. "I'm only joking. It's great to see you again."

Angelina smiled at him. "You too, Percy. How has life been?" As soon as the words were out, she wanted to smack herself. Of course, life would be hard for him, and all of the Weasleys. Why did she have to open her big mouth?

"It's been getting better," Percy confessed. Angelina noticed a twinkle in his eyes—one that wasn't there when he was Gryffindor Head Boy at Hogwarts. "I think I've met my soul mate." The last part was more toward Angelina, but, with her standing so close to George, he heard every word.

"Where is she? I want to meet this girlfriend of yours. If only to make sure she isn't imaginary. What was the name of that one imaginary girlfriend you had? Sheila? Samara? Eh, no matter. Good riddance to her! She was always telling you to tattle on us to Mum."

"She's in the kitchen, helping with dinner."

George pushed his way past Percy, making a bee-line for the kitchen. When he rounded the corner, he saw his little sister first. Ginny looked like she had just finished crying minutes before. It broke his heart to see something like that. When he died, he didn't want his family to mourn like that. He wanted them celebrate his life. And then move on with theirs.

Next to Ginny was a really beautiful girl with long black hair. Sure this wasn't Percy's girlfriend. How was he ever able to reel in a girl like this?

"Hello, Ginny," he spoke, causing her to look up from the potatoes she was focusing on intensely.

"Fred?" She squinted at her brother—had never been able to tell them apart.

"No, George." His voice cracked. When he first arrived, he was blinded to the enormity of the hole Fred's death left in the house. But now, seeing Ginny, being called by his dead brother's name, it brought everything crashing into reality. He grabbed onto the counter for support, feeling something deep down inside of him ripping apart.

Angelina, not far behind him, saw his movements. She had known such movements from their few weeks of dating. George was breaking inside once again. She moved to his side, turning his attention to her face. "Georgie, look at me."

It took him a while to get his eyes to focus on her. But when they did, she was all he could see. Her beauty, her smile, and the way her eyes lit up every time she laughed at one of his jokes. All of it and much, much more. In that moment, he truly believed she was an angel sent to him by his brother. In his head, he sent a silent thank you to Fred, who was always looking out for him, even in death.

"I'm here, okay?" Her voice found him, pulled him out of the dark place he was headed towards. She saved him, over and over again.

George shook the last bit of the mental breakdown from his body. Once it was gone, a definite change could be noticed. His smile had returned once again, and he didn't seem as if he would collapse into himself anymore.

Molly watched the entire interaction with wide eyes. Her heart broke when she saw George crumple against the counter. And when Angelina was able to pull him back, she decided right then that that girl would forever be welcome in her family. If she could work that kind of magic on the one person most affected by Fred's death, then she had every right to be part of the family.

"Hello, Angelina," Ginny said with a smile. She had, as well, watched the events transpire. It amazed her that she had the ability to stop what looked to be a heart shattering. And she had missed her old Quidditch teammate, always wondering what had happened to her, but not being able to find her until now.

"Hi, Ginny! I hear you've just landed yourself a spot on the Hollyhead Harpies. Way to go! That's quite an accomplishment." Angelina smiled back. "Where's Harry? I'd like to say hello to him, as well."

"He's in the den with Charlie and Tyler, right?" Ginny turned to the woman next to her, who nodded.

"Right, then," Angelina turned back to George. "Will you be okay if I go say hello?"

"Go, woman. I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself." He feigned grumpiness.

Angelina giggled. "I'll be right back."

George caught her arm before she could go far. He pulled her back long enough to kiss her cheek—for he _was_ in his parent's home now, respect had become his middle name. If Angelina could have blushed, she would have.

"Hurry back, dear," Molly said to her as she was leaving. "We have much work to do. You'll help finish dinner, right?"

"Definitely! Just don't let George help, unless you want burned food."

"Hey!" George exclaimed in protest. "That was _one_ time. And you still ate it anyway."

"But it tasted like Dragon Dung," she called from the hallway, her chiming laughter rebounding behind her.

"Have a lot of experience with that, do we?" George spoke loudly, knowing his voice would carry to her. She didn't have a comeback for that one. It made him feel accomplished.

In the confusion, Percy had crossed the room, and was now standing close to Audrey, who was smiling at him.

"George, this is my girlfriend, Audrey Turner."

George studied the girl more closely. Yes, she sure was a beauty. He still couldn't figure out how Percy landed her.

Audrey felt awkward under his gaze. She wasn't used to so much attention. "Hello, George," she murmured quietly, looking down at the shaved carrot in her hand.

George didn't claim to know much about Percy, but he knew when his brother was serious about something. And he could tell he was serious about this girl. He could tell he would be getting another sister-in-law, more than likely in the near feature. "Welcome to the family, Aud." She smiled and he returned the favor.

**Arthur**

While their exchange was going on, Arthur was arriving home. He could tell already that at least some of his children had arrived—the atmosphere in and around his home was different from when it was just Molly and him. But he wasn't sure which ones had made it, and which ones were running late, like he was. He was sure Molly would forgive him, but he hated coming home late.

Entering his home, he heard the family clock chiming, signifying his arrival. Molly sauntered out of the kitchen, looking absolutely ravishing, as always.

As soon as Arthur hung his hat on the coat rack by the front door, he pulled his wife in for a kiss. No words were needed, but they almost never were. He never understood how he had gotten so lucky as to find a woman as wonderful as Molly Prewitt. It boggled his mind when he tried to figure it out.

"You're late," Molly murmured, not at all angry, like a normal wife would be. In fact, she was glad he had made it home. Ever since that time he was bit by Nagini years and years ago, Molly always worried about the love of her life. What would she do if she lost him? She didn't think she'd be able to go on, and sincerely hoped she would never have to figure out.

"I'm sorry, love. I had to deal with enchanted toothbrushes that had half a mind to attempt to stab themselves down their Muggle user's throats. Bit of a messy situation. St. Mungo's is playing host to at least ten of their victims."

Molly never got tired of hearing his work stories. While she didn't think Muggle objects quite as fascinating as he did, she had an appreciation for them. It amazed her how they had so many of them for the same use, whereas she mainly just had her wand.

"That sounds very eventful, dear."

"So, how many of our children are back? Are there any stragglers?" Arthur headed towards the den, where he heard the loudest conversation coming from.

"Bill and Fleur are here. She has some sort of stomach bug, or something, which has him worried. Seems it's been going on for a few days now. Don't worry; she says she has an appointment at St. Mungo's tomorrow. Charlie brought a friend. His name is Tyler. Remind me to talk to you about that later. Percy brought his girlfriend, the one he's been writing about. She is absolutely lovely! George also brought his girlfriend. George nearly had a breakdown in the middle of the kitchen, but Angelina was there, and she pulled him out of it. I can never thank her enough, for that. And Ginny and Harry are here. Ginny had a moment when she first arrived, but I believe she is over it for now. I'm going to have Harry stick close, though. She seems better when he is around. In fact, all of our children seem better with their counterparts. I think we raised them right, Arthur."

"Of course we raised them right, love. They had you to look up to." He kissed her once more, and then set off to greet each and every one of his children.

His first stop was the kitchen. He wanted to see Ginny and George, who seemed to be taking Fred's death the hardest.

Once in the kitchen, Arthur pulled George and Ginny both into a hug.

"Not cool, Dad," George said, laughing as he almost lost his balance and fell on his sister.

Ginny hid her smile against her father's chest. She remembered days when she was little and afraid, when he would hold her as this, and her fears would just melt away. She was glad to have the feeling back.

"Are you well, Dad?" she asked him, her head still against his chest.

"Indeed, I am. How are those new teammates treating you?" Arthur was proud of his daughter for making it onto the Hollyhead Harpies. He couldn't wait to go to her first game.

"They're more than great! I already feel like I've been a part of the team since the beginning. And I have yours and Mum's season tickets in my bag. I'll give them to you later."

"We won't miss a game, honey." Arthur turned his attention back to his son. "How's business, Georgie?"

"Surprisingly, it's been pretty good. It's been hard running the store alone, but sales are up. I've actually put out an ad looking for some help in the Daily Prophet."

"I could fill in, you know, until you find someone permanent." The offer came from one of Arthur's other sons, Percy, who was standing near a girl cutting carrots.

"What do you know about creating joke shop props, Perce? Face it; you're the biggest prude I know."

Percy's ears turned red. "I'll have you know that after years of torment from you and F—" he paused, unable to continue for more than a few moments. Audrey dropped the knife she was holding and grabbed his hand. With her support, he was able to continue. "I just mean that I have experience being on the receiving end of your pranks."

Arthur thought Percy filling in was a great idea. But he wasn't sure if stating so would overstep his bounds.

George mulled it over. What could it hurt, really? He needed the help immediately. And searching for someone would take time. "Maybe I'll give you an audition, you know, to see if you're able to keep up and answer questions, and stuff. Be at the shop Monday at the crack of noon."

Percy nodded, cringing at his younger brother's business sense. You don't open your shop at the crack of noon, you bumbling fool, he thought to himself. A business should open when the customers are ready for it to open. George would have to learn that.

"And who is this vision of loveliness?" Arthur asked Percy, for he was standing closest.

"This is Audrey, Dad. Audrey Turner. She's my girlfriend." He beamed proudly.

"Girlfriend, you say? Well done son, well done."

After greeting his children in the kitchen, he excused himself and made his way to the den, where he assumed the rest of them were. His assumptions were right. Charlie, Harry, Bill, and two other people were deep in discussion about Quidditch. Fleur was merely watching her husband getting excited—something she hadn't seen since before the war. She was happy he had found someone to cheer him up like she couldn't.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Fleur said, her accent still very thick. Everyone's attention turned to the doorway, where he stood.

"Fleur, how many times do I need to remind you to call me Dad? Mr. Weasley is my father. Hello, everyone."

"Hello, Arthur," Harry said, getting up from his chair. The chair was Arthur's favorite, and Harry knew this. "Why don't you have a seat? You look like you could use it."

"Thank you, Harry," he replied, sinking himself into the chintz. Harry took the last available seat, next to Fleur.

"Fleur, I hear you aren't feeling well." This confused him, because the girl was positively glowing.

"I am perfectly fine, Dad. It was only a little bit of queasiness. And it has already passed for the day. So I should be right as rain for this dinner."

"Well that's a good thing. We wouldn't want to have you suffering just to please us. If you feel sick at all, dear, just say the word, and Bill, here, will take you straight home." Bill nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Charlie, my dear boy. Who is your friend?" Arthur studied the boy seated next to his son. He looked around the same age, give or take a year.

"This is Tyler. He's my friend." Once again, Tyler's face fell. Arthur also noticed it. He wondered if that was what Molly wanted to talk to him about.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Tyler."

"It's nice to meet you, as well, Mr. Weasley."

"Arthur, my dear boy. Call me Arthur. Please."

Arthur turned to the only person left in the entire house he had yet to greet. To him as well, she looked familiar. But Arthur was able to place her as Angelina Johnson, a former teammate of his sons and daughter. He assumed she was George's girlfriend.

"I'm Angelina," she said when she noticed him studying her. "I'm George's girlfriend." She felt the need to leave out the part where she was also once Fred's girlfriend.

"Welcome to our home, then, Angelina. I expect you will be bringing my boy around more often? He needs to not stay away for so long. I understand he is still grieving, but he can do that here too. So, please, bring him around."

Angelina nodded. She agreed George needed to be around his family while he was grieving.

"Ah, Harry, I've been meaning to ask you something." He stood and pulled a pink balloon looking object out of his pocket. "Can you tell me what this is?"

Harry took the object—still in its wrapper—from Arthur. He had a suspicion as to what it was, and after opening it and touching the rubber material confirmed it. "It's called a whoopee cushion. It's meant as a practical joke—something you might find in the Muggle version of George's joke shop."

Arthur was curious now. A Muggle practical joke? He didn't even know Muggles played practical jokes on one another. "And what does it do?"

"I think it best to show you. First, you place this little end here in your mouth and blow it up like a balloon." He proceeded to do so. When it was as filled as he could get it, he pulled it out of his mouth.

Arthur was mesmerized by the fact that it kept its air, much unlike a balloon would. "Is that all it does?"

"Not quite. Can I have you stand, please?"

Arthur did as he was asked. Harry placed the whoopee cushion on the chair where he had just been sitting. "Okay, you can sit back down now."

Once he sat down, Arthur felt the air whooshing out of the whoopee cushion under his behind. It sounded as if he was expelling gas, but he knew he wasn't. Surely, he would have felt it, right? Unless the object had some unknown effect on his body. "That's not me, right?" he asked Harry.

Harry shook his head, barely able to keep his laughter in check. Across from him, though, Charlie and Tyler were rolling around, fits of laughter threatening to burst their sides open.

"As I said, it's a practical joke. It is supposed to make people around the person who sits on it think that that person is farting as they sit down. It's really rather childish." He could keep his laughter in no longer. Tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I don't mean to laugh."

By that time, Arthur was joining in on the laughter. He thought this whoopity cushion thing was hilarious. He couldn't wait to bring it with him to work, and play a few practical jokes on his own.

**Ron**

Ron and Hermione apparated on the top stoop leading into the Weasley house. Unlike George and Angelina, Hermione was able to plan their landing perfectly, and they both stayed upright.

Ron opened the door and led his girlfriend inside. Naturally, they were the last ones to arrive. Most times, this was due to the fact that they were constantly arguing. But their lateness this time was caused by the fact that they had just finished making up. In fact, neither were aware that this was clear on their face and in Ron's messy hair.

The pair was greeted by George's guffaw of a laugh at the sight of them.

"Have a nice make up, did we?" he questioned, elbowing his younger brother.

Ron and Hermione, who were confused by his inquiries, turned to each other. She noticed his rumpled hair, and attempted to smooth it with her hand. He caught sight of her flushed cheeks, which made his own resemble their color.

"Shut it, you git," Ron muttered, wishing he would go back to wherever he had appeared from, and leave them alone. The last thing he wanted was for attention to be called to what they had just been doing. Especially during his first few minutes home.

"That's not very nice, little brother. Maybe I should inform Mum of the reason you both were late." George's teasing nature was just a trademark of his glowing personality.

"And what reason is that?" Molly asked, coming into the room. She was followed by Ginny and Audrey. From the other direction, came Arthur, Charlie, Bill, and Ron's own best friend, Harry, followed by the rest of the Weasley's house guests.

Ron considered disapparating, but figured they would find him eventually. He reckoned he should just face them now and get it over with.

"Ickle Ronnie-Kins, here, and—"

"Nothing, Mum," he said in a rush, cutting off his brother mid-sentence. His face now resembled a cherry tomato, as did Hermione's; they were both immensely humiliated.

"Well then, welcome home, dear. You too, Hermione. You both look well!" Molly pulled them both into a hug, which the pair were grateful for. The action gave them a chance to gather themselves.

Arthur, who had an inkling of what might have caused the commotion, struggled to keep his amusement hidden. Of course, he figured his children were old enough to make the decision on whether or not to be active in that way, but he never thought he would see in a form such as this. It was much better to imagine that his children were still that—children—, who didn't have a clue about the hippogriffs and the flesh-eating slugs. Thinking about it only made the fact that they were grown up all the more real.

Bill and the rest of the family began outright laughing, having finally caught on. Secretly, each and every one of them was glad they weren't in Ron and Hermione's place.

"What is so funny, all of you?" Molly asked. When no one could give her a straight answer, she simply shook her head. "Hermione, dear, we could use your help in the kitchen. Dinner is nearly finished now, but you can still help with dessert."

Hermione nodded, grateful for the distraction. She wanted to get out of the foyer, where she felt every single pair of eyes on her—excluding Ron.

The women left to go about their business, while the men went into the den.

"Hello, mate," Ron muttered, greeting his best friend. He hadn't seen Harry since the day before, at work.

Harry clapped him on his back. "Brutal moment, that was," he whispered back.

Ron nodded in agreement.

In the kitchen, Hermione was properly introduced to Audrey by Ginny. If she seemed surprised that Percy was able to get a girl such as her, she was courteous enough not to show it. Audrey admired that in her.

"It's nice to meet you, Audrey. I have a feeling we will be seeing a lot of each other from now on." Hermione was glad to have another person whom she could possibly end up calling her sister one day.

The timer over the stove dinged, and Molly removed a perfect-looking golden cake. Hermione fell more in love with the woman. She loved cake—vanilla being her favorite flavor, as well as Ron's.

"You get to decorate it, dear," Molly said with a smile, placing it in front of her. In fact, looking around the room, Hermione noticed that each girl—with the exception of Fleur, who was still by Bill's side in the den—was working on one of their favorite dishes, or the favorite dishes of their boyfriend. She could see that that was how Molly planned it, the clever woman. She would even bet that none of them knew of the purpose they were serving.

"But I can't decorate a cake," Hermione protested. She wasn't sure why she should be decorating it in the first place. She wasn't even a part of the family…yet. Not that she hadn't been waiting for Ron to propose practically ever since the night of the war. But she understood that his feelings for her stayed mainly stashed away as he grieved for his fallen brother. And she didn't love him any less for it.

"Yes you can, dear. It's very simple." Molly showed her a spell that would decorate the cake beautifully, and informed her that she could add her own little touches, if she would like.

As she got to work, Ginny spoke to her. "How is Crookshanks?"

Hermione smiled at her, murmuring, "He is fine. Ron doesn't like the way that he plays with Pig, but that is to be expected. Ron doesn't much like 'Shanks, not since the days of Scabbers. I don't believe that can be helped, though. He honestly thought 'Shanks ate him." She shook her head at her boyfriend's silliness.

Ginny snickered. "My brother, always the daft one in the family."

This caused both girls, along with Molly and Audrey, to burst in to fits of laughter.

**Fleur**

In the den, Fleur had just about enough of guy talk. She excused herself, much to Bill's dismay—for he thought she was making another trip to the restroom.

"I'm only going to help Mum," she assured him, kissing his cheek lightly.

Once in the kitchen, she made a beeline for Molly. "Can I help?" she questioned, her accent thick.

"Ah, yes, I was wondering where you had disappeared to, Fleur. I have your assignments right here. I'm afraid it's just about finished, so you won't really have much to do, but any little bit of help would be great. Please, stir this pot."

Fleur did as she was asked, peering down at the glop in the bottom of the pan. She wasn't sure what it was meant to be, but wasn't about to ask, either. She assumed Molly knew what she was doing, and who was she to question that?

"So, you're looking much better, dear," Molly observed from her side. "Have you any idea what's wrong?"

Fleur shook her head. She wished she did know, but nothing came to mind whenever she thought about it. "I've never been ill like this, Mum. I honestly don't know what it could be."

"You're ill?" Ginny questioned from across the room. She wasn't sure if her sister-in-law was contagious, but if she was, she didn't want to catch it.

"Relax, Ginny," Hermione murmured to her friend. She had a feeling she knew what was on that poor girl's mind, and wanted to calm her fears. Now, she took the chance to study Fleur more closely. She did notice something off, but she was able to place it quicker than Molly.

Hermione and Molly's realization came at around the same time. They were both deep in thought, when it finally hit them.

"You're pregnant!" Molly exclaimed, while Hermione took a more subtle approach. "Are you pregnant?"

Fleur shook her head. "Not that I know of," she said slowly, now considering the possibility. Sure, she had been regular her entire life, but now, as she counted back, she realized her period was late. Could she really be pregnant?

"Oh, honey, I can see it now," Molly exclaimed, pulling Fleur into a hug. "Why couldn't I tell before?" That bit was said more to herself than anyone else.

"I'm not even sure if I am pregnant, Mum. How do I find out?"

Molly smiled at her daughter-in-law and explained the process. Then she sent her off to perform the Wizarding Pregnancy test on herself.

In the bathroom, surrounded by the feeling of love that inhibited every nook and cranny of the Weasley house, Fleur lifted the bottom edge of her shirt with a shaky hand, baring her stomach slowly. She then pointed her wand at her stomach—a strange feeling on its own, for she had never done such a thing—, and muttered the words Molly had told her to say.

"Infans Scirus."

Molly told her that if her wand tip glowed red, she wasn't pregnant. But Fleur was unprepared for what did happen. Protruding from her wand came the tiniest fireworks she had ever seen. The tip of it glowed purple, a positive if there ever was one.

So now she knew the truth behind her sudden bouts of illness—morning sickness. Though, she wasn't sure why it was called morning sickness, if it showed up at odd hours of the day, almost never in the morning.

When she returned to the kitchen, her smile looked to be permanently affixed to her face. Molly knew the test she had taken turned out positive, and that, in a few months, she would finally get her very first—of many, she hoped—, grandchild.

"Congratulations, dearie! Now you will have something to tell the Healer tomorrow. And he or she will set you up with the potions you need to grow a perfectly healthy baby. Oh, I can hardly wait to meet him or her!" Molly nearly suffocated the poor girl in a hug.

"One thing," Fleur muttered against Molly's shoulder.

"Yes? Anything I can do to help you, just let me know."

"Don't tell Bill. Let me be the one to tell him, please! I want it to be a bit of a surprise." Fleur smiled at her mother-in-law.

"Of course, dear. That goes for you lot, as well." She regarded the other girls in the room, who simply nodded.

"This dinner will be a great one," Fleur said with a smile.

Not long after their exchange, dinner was served. Platters and platters of delicious looking food made their way to the table, guided by the wands of Hermione, Ginny, Audrey, Molly and Fleur. The men looked on, eyes nearly bugging out of their heads. It appeared they were just a tad hungry, Ron especially.

When the dishes were placed on the table, the women took their seats next to their male counterparts. Each of them had a smile on their face—obviously hiding something that the boys attempted to figure out. But none said a word.

All around the table, Molly watched as her children dug into the food she had prepared. She hadn't had them around her table in a long while, and seeing them there warmed her heart. But she didn't forget the fact that one of her children would never join them at the dinner table again. Furthermore, Fred's favorite seat sat empty, in honor of him. It was hard for the Weasleys not to look at.

Dinner passed quickly, uneventfully, for the most part. The conversation was light, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. But Fleur couldn't seem to contain her happiness. She wanted to tell Bill of their coming child, and almost did numerous times.

By the time Molly charmed the beautifully decorated cake to float into the room, Fleur could hold it in no longer. "William," she murmured, leaning toward him. "I have some news."

Bill's attention focused on his wife. Rarely had she ever called him William, unless she had some sort of big news. As he studied her, he noticed she positively glowed, and he patiently waited for her to continue.

"I'm pregnant," she pronounced, her widening smile brightening her features.

Bill froze. Of course, he had been wondering when children would become a part of their plans, but he never expected them so soon. Once he got over the initial shock of her news, though, he stood from his chair and pulled her into his arms. "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her for the truth. For in his mind, he was already imagining their child—complete with her blonde locks and his blue eyes.

Fleur nodded, tears of joy streaming down her face.

From around the table, the entire family watched the exchange. Arthur was the first to speak. "What's this?"

Molly leaned toward her husband, a huge smile already on her face. "She's pregnant, dear. We are going to be grandparents in a few months' time."

The congratulations came flooding in, and soon, everyone had forgotten about the sadness behind the occasion.

**Molly**

Approximately six months after that first dinner, Molly awoke in the middle of the night to a call on the Muggle phone Arthur kept by their bedside. The sound startled her, but not as much as it had the first time she heard it, when Arthur first brought it home and set it up.

"Hello?" she whispered into the receiver, trying not to wake her sleeping husband.

"Mum?" Molly recognized her son's voice immediately. She had been awaiting his call for days.

"Is it time?" she questioned, now talking louder, hoping that it was. Beside her, Arthur stirred.

"It is. We'll see you at St. Mungo's, Mum. Fleur is asking for you, specifically."

Molly hung the phone up, and jumped out of bed. She hurriedly threw on some clothes, while waking her husband. At first, she didn't want to wake him—he worked hard and deserved his sleep—but she figured he'd like to be there when their first grandchild was born.

"Arthur, dear, it's time." She shook his shoulder lightly.

In his sleep-fog haze, Arthur assumed she was talking of her own self, having been woken up many times in the night for the birth of one of his children. "Are you all packed? Is the baby coming?"

"Bill just phoned. Fleur is in labor as we speak. We have to go now, dear."

"Bill? Isn't he in his bed? And who is this Fleur?"

"Arthur, you know Fleur is Bill's wife." She briefly questioned his sanity. Maybe all those hours with Muggle objects had finally begun to unwind his brain?

Arthur shook the sleep from his head. "Yes, Fleur," he muttered. "Sorry, Molly, I guess I'm not quite awake yet."

Molly quickly forgave him, and waited patiently while he finished getting dressed, then apparated the both of them to the Maternity Ward inside St. Mungo's. It didn't take them long to find Fleur's room.

Not long after their arrival, Fleur delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl. Molly had never seen a baby as beautiful as her granddaughter, her own children included. It seemed the girl was blessed with her mother's looks, most likely partly due to the 1/8th Veela blood that coursed through her veins.

The baby girl was placed in Fleur's arms. As Fleur gazed upon her child, she wept tears of happiness.

Bill wrapped his arms around both of his girls, placing a kiss upon her forehead, before murmuring, "I love you. Both of you."

Molly was tearing up as well, at the beauty of the scene before her. Here was her oldest child, her first daughter-in-law and her very first grandchild, in such a loving embrace. She was glad that she no longer had to worry about the safety of her family.

"Well, then," Arthur crooned. Molly heard his voice break at the sheer beauty of the situation. "What is her name?"

Molly, too, was anxious to find out the name of her first grandchild. She had heard some of their choices, but not the one they decided on.

Fleur smiled up at her husband. "Victiore," she said, as if it was the best name in the world, and it was, for their child.

"Victiore," Molly repeated. She was pleased with their choice. The baby deserved a name as beautiful as she.

"Would you like to hold her, Mum?" Bill questioned, the smile not leaving his face as he stared upon his daughter.

Molly simply nodded, and held out her arms. Bill placed the bundle of baby in the crook, where she fit perfectly—Molly's arms were made to carry children.

Holding Victiore, watching her open her tiny little eyes and gaze upon her grandmother for the very first time in her short life, was a moment Molly knew she would never forget.

The couples only got a few more minutes of peace before Bill's brothers and sister crowded in the room to see the new addition to the family.

"She's lovely, Fleur, Bill," Ginny murmured, marveling at her baby niece's beauty.


End file.
